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good news. In the afternoon Lts. Schoen and Kearny, and our driver Mechan, besides A.R.B. went up to the trenches on a tour. We were dog tired when we got back and truthfully I did more walking between 2:30 and 6:30 this afternoon than I've done in two months.

The trenches were not a disappointment. We passed our line of balloons and at a village which showed the effect of German shell fire we were told to park the car and place our gas masks in alert position. So we ran the Fiat into a stable whose door had been conveniently ^[[fashioned]] [[strikethrough]] cut [[/strikethrough]] by a big burst some time previous to our appearance. Our mask bag was slung at its hooked up length bringing the ^[[ugly]] appliance about six inches below our chins. On our heads we bore those oh-so-heavy "Carnegie derbys"
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